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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307990">Only One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxious_Life/pseuds/Anxious_Life'>Anxious_Life</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabid_Dolphin/pseuds/Rabid_Dolphin'>Rabid_Dolphin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wynonna Earp (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cheerleader Waverly Earp, F/F, High School Nicole Haught, Love at First Sight, Nicole’s Coming Out Story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:14:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxious_Life/pseuds/Anxious_Life, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabid_Dolphin/pseuds/Rabid_Dolphin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicole Haught never expected to have her heart stolen by the opposing football team's bombshell cheerleader--but suddenly she believes in love at first sight, and she HAS to find out who the gorgeous brunette Blue Devil is. Nicole embarks on her coming out journey as she pursues a beautiful, kind-eyed stranger. How confident will she be when it comes to realizing who she really is?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Waverly Earp &amp; Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp &amp; Nicole Haught &amp; Original Female Character(s), Waverly Earp/Champ Hardy, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Wynonna Earp, Wynonna Earp/Nicole Haught</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>269</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dear readers, thanks for taking the time to join Anxious_Life and I on this journey. As she would say, she puts the bones into the story and I add the guts--so together we hope to create something poignant and relatable. It’s our first time making a work public, and we sincerely hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicole exuded confidence. It was the beginning of her junior year, she was the Captain of her high school’s basketball team, and she had the swagger to match. She was taller than average; athletically built with a lean musculature; and carried herself with the ease of someone comfortable in their skin. With long, vibrantly red hair, which she typically kept in a practical, tidy French braid, she always looked sporty. While the other girls her age talked about boys they thought were cute, Nicole focused on school and sports. When the “who’s cuter” questions were brought up to her she just laughed them off as a joke and walked away. There were definitely no boys who had caught her attention at school; and, honestly, there were no girls at her school who had caught her interest either. Nicole had no idea how much things would change at Friday night’s football game.</p>
<p>She didn’t even want to attend the football game. Watching sweaty guys clumsily grope and tackle one another was not her idea of a good time; but her best friend, Charlie, really enjoyed the view of the players in tight uniform pants, and Char had convinced her to come. Nicole successfully pretended to enjoy the entire first half and even clapped appropriately when the home team scored. When the 3rd quarter started, and her best friend was standing on the bleachers screaming and clapping along with the cheerleaders, Nicole smoothly excused herself to the concession stand. She needed to get out of the noise and clamor for a minute, collect her sanity, and thought the short walk away from the crowd would help. </p>
<p>Suddenly, whistles blared signaling the end of the game and Nicole was abruptly shaken by the shoulder.</p>
<p>“There you are!” Charlie shouted. “You went to the concession stand, like, an hour ago.” Charlie put her hands on her hips and looked at Nicole expectantly, waiting for an explanation for her friend’s disappearance.</p>
<p>“Did you see her?” Nicole asked urgently, without taking her eyes from the opposite side of the field.</p>
<p>“See who?”</p>
<p>“That cheerleader!” Nicole snapped, irritated by Char’s interruption.</p>
<p>“There were, like, a dozen cheerleaders, ‘Cole.” Char replied with an eye roll, equally irritated by Nicole’s tone and behavior.</p>
<p>“No, no, no.” Nicole chanted. “There’s only one. The one with the brown hair and genuine smile. The only one that doesn’t look fake!” </p>
<p>With the game over, the stands were emptying and people were shuffling toward the parking lot all around her. Nicole craned her neck and desperately searched the sideline for another glimpse of the angelic girl. Angel was the perfect descriptor for the cheerleader. She was just a tiny thing, with long brown hair that floated ethereally each time she flew through the air during a stunt. Nicole caught a flash of her beauty on the way to the concession stand midway through the third quarter and had stood fixated by her visage for the rest of the game. Nicole had no idea which team won the game, but she knew every detail about the exterior of the opposing team’s bombshell cheerleader. Nicole had memorized her vibrant smile, the crinkle of her eyes when she laughed, and the toned muscles in her arms as she cheered. Nicole couldn’t put words to the complicated feelings churning around inside her, but she knew with absolute certainty she had to find out who the angelic girl was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Anxious_Life and I have several chapters written, and she has more plotted out. We plan to update weekly! She deserves all the credit for the story line--all I've done is add some flourish :).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the game, Nicole barricaded herself in her bedroom and exhaustively relived every moment after she saw the mystery cheerleader, scouring her memory for the minutest details. She knew two things: one, the girl was breathtakingly beautiful; and two, she was a cheerleader for the Purgatory Blue Devils. Nicole did a quick google search and was devastated to discover Purgatory was two hours away! In a fit of desperation, she scrambled to pull up the football schedule, as the season had only just started and she was hopeful Purgatory was scheduled for a rematch—she simply had to see the mystery girl again. To Nicole’s delight, she discovered Purgatory was on the schedule for a second game…in three WEEKS! Nicole threw herself back on her bed dramatically and muttered, “This is torture.”</p>
<p>Nicole had never in her life known three weeks to pass more slowly. She had attempted to use social media to discover the girl’s identity, but didn’t have enough information. The Purgatory Devils’ high school webpage was archaic and had no information on their student athletes. So Nicole waited, impatiently, until the Friday night of the Purgatory game. Finally, game night. Nicole waited for Charlie to show up at Nicole’s house to try to convince her to go to the football game. Nicole was obviously already committed, but didn’t want Char to know.</p>
<p>“I don’t really want to go, Char,” Nicole replied flatly, in response to Charlie’s appeals.</p>
<p>“But Cole, come on. You haven’t gone to a game with me in forever.” Charlie wheedled, turning her best puppy dog eyes on Nicole.</p>
<p>Nicole sighed, crossed her arms and with a hint of annoyance said, “Fine, Char. I guess I’ll join you. But don’t expect me to watch!” </p>
<p>As soon as she and Charlie found their seats in the stands, Nicole began to scan the opposing sideline. She felt confident the girl would be at the game, and was excited, but calm, focused. After several minutes of craning and squinting, it became apparent to Nicole she would not be able to see the other sideline from her side of the field—it was impossible to see that far. So, midway through the first quarter Nicole decided to ditch Char and excused herself to the concession stand again. But this time, she walked right past the concessions and all the way around the field until she was right beside the opposing team’s bleachers—and there she was, being thrown effortlessly into the air, and floating gracefully back to earth in slow motion. Nicole stood rooted in place, where she drank in every detail of the girl’s appearance; every minutia of her performance, for the entire game. Nicole never felt her phone receive text messages from Charlie, never touched her hair, or adjusted her jacket—she barely remembered to breathe. </p>
<p>And just like the last game, when the final whistles blared, Nicole was startled back to reality. She squared her shoulders, summoned her courage and whispered resolutely, “Finally, it’s over. I’m going to introduce myself.” Without taking her eyes off the brunette cheerleader, Nicole walked through the gate and began her approach—and then they locked eyes. The second their eyes met, the brunette broke into the most intoxicating smile Nicole had ever seen, and she was even more hooked than before. Nicole’s body continued to carry her forward, almost of its own accord, while her heart raced and her mind tried to form coherent thoughts. She nearly turned around and retreated at the absurdity of it all, but still her legs carried her forward. And still their eyes remained trained on each other. She was almost close enough to speak, just within range to vocalize a greeting when it happened.</p>
<p>A Blue Devils football player crashed through the throng of people, swept the cheerleader off her feet, and began to sloppily kiss her on the cheek. </p>
<p>“Did you see me, baby? Was I good? I played that game just for you!” He yelled excitedly as he spun her away from Nicole. The girl though, she never broke eye contact with Nicole, almost as if to plead, “Save me.” And then she was gone, whisked away into the crowd and out of sight by player number six, whose jersey said “Hardy” on the back. </p>
<p>Nicole stood there, trembling, trying to comprehend what had just happened. That. That was her moment, and she lost her chance. With a crowd of strangers swirling around her and a flood of emotion swirling inside her, Nicole closed her eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nicole does some soul searching, and receives some life changing news</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Right now, Anxious_Life and I hope to get on a two time per week posting schedule. Wayhaught Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Look for Chapter 4 next Wednesday.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicole managed to avoid Charlie and make her way home after the game. The last thing Nicole wanted was an accusatory interrogation by her best friend. Her weekend was a blur of introspective disappointment and withdrawn confusion. She turned off her phone and spent most of the time on her bed staring at the ceiling and trying to decipher her complicated feelings about a brunette cheerleader she had never met. And what the consequences of those feelings meant for her life. She was obviously drawn to the girl in a way she had never been drawn toward anyone. It felt new, exciting, nerve wracking, and surprising all at once. Her complete disinterest in boys suddenly to made sense. <br/> <br/>Monday at school, Nicole went through the motions of class without engaging teachers or classmates. Until Charlie finally got pissed off and growled, “What is wrong with you, ‘Cole?” Startling Nicole out of her daze.<br/> <br/>“Um, nothing. Uh…I’m alright, Char,” Nicole stuttered unconvincingly, plastering a fake smile on her face. She packed her books up and strode out of third period Biology with Charlie on her heels, and into English. Nicole avoided Charlie the rest of the day, which ended up being easy since Charlie got pissed and ignored Nicole after their exchange at the end of Biology.<br/> <br/>Nicole walked home after school, her mind racing and her heart heavy. She hated fighting with Charlie, hated when things between them didn’t seem balanced or easy. It would have been simple for Nicole to let Charlie in—easier to navigate all the complicated feelings with her best friend as a sounding board. But she worried if she let Charlie know about her interest in girls it would make things different between them. And it was so deeply personal and new—Nicole was still looking for the right words to even describe how she felt. She definitely hadn’t told her parents yet, although not for lack of trying. She just hadn’t been able to find the right time. Her father was an electric lineman who was rarely home, and her mom a high school science teacher. And also…there was just not an easy way to say words that carried such weight, let alone out loud to people whose opinion of her mattered so deeply.<br/> <br/>Alone in her room, she heard her mother’s voice yell from the kitchen, “Nicole, come downstairs, please!” As she descended the staircase she saw her dad seated at the kitchen table, and her mom pacing in front of the stove. The oddity of the situation and her parents’ behavior made Nicole immediately paranoid and she wondered, “Do they know?<br/> <br/>“What’s going on?” She asked as she approached the table. “Is everything ok?”<br/> <br/>“Everything will be fine, just sit down. We have some things to discuss,” her mother stated calmly.<br/> <br/>Nicole sat down, mind racing. She looked at her dad. His head was down and his facial expression blank, which was no surprise. Nicole looked back toward her mom for some clue as to what was about to happen and noticed her mother was almost vibrating with nervous energy.  Her mom walked up to the table, placed her hands on the back of an empty chair and took a deep breath before she proclaimed, “I have accepted a new job, as the Principal of a High School!” Nicole heard the excitement and pride in her mother’s voice—this was a big step up in the world of Education and Nicole felt a swell of pride for her mom’s accomplishment. Nicole asked, “Where? What does this mean for us?” as her eyes scanned the faces of her parents. Her mom cleared her throat, and said slowly but firmly, “Well, honey, it means we have to move.”<br/> <br/>“What!” Nicole shouted. “We can’t move! Basketball season is about to start, and I only have two years left here. We absolutely can NOT go!” Nicole felt dizzy, like the rug of stability had just been yanked from beneath her. She placed her hands palm down on top of the table and splayed her fingers apart in an attempt to ground herself.<br/> <br/>Her mom moved around the table toward Nicole and sat down next to her. With a comforting hand on Nicole’s shoulder she pleaded, “I am sorry, and I hear you, but we don’t have a choice. I need this promotion. I need you to be OK with this, for me.” Her father had remained silent during the whole exchange between Nicole and her mom. He stiffened next to them, rigid in his posture, turned his head and stated flatly, “We are moving. It won’t be easy on all of us, but we are going to support your mama.” Then he abruptly stood and walked away from the table, away from the discussion, and away from the awkwardness of emotion. He obviously didn’t want to be there anyway.<br/> <br/>“Where, Mom?” Nicole asked, tears welling up in her eyes.<br/> <br/>“A little town named Purgatory, a few hours away from here. They have a great hockey team, and a pretty good basketball team. I think you will get along just fine there,” Her mom replied evenly, trying to keep her daughter from completely falling apart.<br/> <br/>Nicole repeated, “Purgatory?” And suddenly a small beam of recognition and hope broke through the despair. “How soon, Mom?” Nicole asked.<br/> <br/>Her mother squeezed her shoulder affectionately and softly stated, “Next week. I know it’s fast…but the opportunity is too good to pass up.”<br/> <br/>Nicole was struck by another realization and croaked, “I have to tell, Char!” She bolted up the stairs, back into her room, shut the door and put her back up against it. She inhaled slowly and slid down until she was seated, knees to her chest. </p>
<p>“Purgatory, huh,” she whispered to herself. “That’s crazy.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It’s WayHaught Wednesday! Here’s a little Nicole insight/backstory, and our first little nugget of Waverly POV. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s never easy to hear truly life altering news. It’s even more difficult to hear the news and also have to pack up sixteen years’ worth of accumulated possessions and bid life-long friends goodbye, all within a week. Years later, herself an adult, Nicole would look back on this time in her life and recognize how stressful it must have been for her mother and father. But as a teenager, she only had the emotional bandwidth to process her own anxiety, stress, and sadness. Nicole had called Charlie only a few minutes after learning about the move to Purgatory. Charlie had, predictably, not handled the news well.<br/> <br/>Nicole spent the first day after she heard the news in a state of quiet shock. She still had to go to school—but her mind was elsewhere. Her mom had been applying for administrator positions for a few years, so moving had been an option, but Nicole never really believed it would happen. She wondered if she would be able to join Purgatory’s basketball team, or if they would even allow her to try out. She had a moment of panic when she considered how all of her teachers and classes would be different and wondered if they were already learning more advanced concepts. And of course, her mind drifted to the brunette cheerleader. She couldn’t help but wonder what the odds were of her seeing the beautiful girl from another town and then moving to the same town within a matter of weeks because her mom got a new job. Nicole wondered if they would be friends, if they would have any classes together, if they were even in the same grade. With all of the major changes in her life, Nicole decided telling her parents or Charlie about her newly discovered interest in girls was a low priority, and tabled it until things settled down a bit.<br/> <br/>Nicole was tasked with packing her room—she was provided a stack of boxes, a roll of newspaper, a tape gun, and left to her own devices. Over the next few days, she managed to cram most of her clothes into a couple of suitcases so she could still access them as needed. Once the clothes were out of her closet she discovered a memory box tucked away on a shelf in the back. It was ready to be loaded into the moving truck, but she paused to reminisce and look through it. She sat down on the floor and spread its contents out around her. It was full of childhood memories and trinkets—souvenirs from camping trips and vacations. Inside an old photo album were preserved images of her smiling in a life jacket, grinning around a mouthful of s’mores, her first time riding a bike without training wheels, and her first sleep over with Charlie when they were six. Nicole leaned back against her bed and allowed herself to feel the angst and sorrow of having to move away from her best friend. She and Charlie had become fast friends in first grade and basically been inseparable ever since—they had seen each other through lost teeth, first pimples, chicken pox, a decade’s worth of birthdays, and everything in-between. Charlie’s mom was a police officer who had been assigned to night shift off and on through the years, and her father was an absent, unreliable figure. Charlie had spent countless nights with Nicole while her mom worked overnight—countless nights in this very room, sharing secrets and giggling under the covers. As Nicole looked through the album, she realized she had always been impressed by Charlie’s mom—she was the only female police officer Nicole had ever seen and she always seemed strong and prepared. In Nicole’s mind, Charlie’s mom was a real life super hero—which Nicole was reminded of as she flipped to a photo of herself dressed as a tiny cop for Halloween. Nicole had insisted on being a police officer for three years in a row. Charlie never considered law enforcement as a profession when she grew up, despite her mother’s influence; but Nicole was always impressed by and curious about the job and the poise it required. Nicole stowed everything back inside the memory box and began to pack her bookshelf.<br/> <br/>After a few boxes, Nicole heard the doorbell and ran downstairs to answer. Standing on the porch, hands shoved into her pockets, was a very glum Charlie. “Do you mind if I help you pack, ‘Cole?” she asked. Nicole reached out and pulled Charlie into a hug and whispered, “Of course not.”  Teary eyed, the two headed upstairs.<br/> <br/>They talked very little as they packed the rest of Nicole’s belongings. Nicole snuck frequent glances toward Charlie, who was unusually quiet and somber as she neatly stacked items into boxes. Despite her own anxiety over the move, Nicole decided to try and cheer up her friend. She picked up a scrapbook her mom had compiled during her 7th grade year, sat on the bed and motioned for Charlie to join her. Nicole opened the book and giggled at a photo of herself with a plaster cast on her arm. “Remember that time I broke my wrist dancing on your bed and fell off!” Nicole chuckled as she described that day.<br/> <br/>“Oh, I remember! I told everyone you broke it trying to beat me in arm wrestling,” Charlie countered, causing both girls to laugh.<br/> <br/>For the next fifteen minutes the girls laughed and reflected on memories they had shared together. During a momentary lull, Charlie softly asked, “You’re not going to forget me, right?”<br/> <br/>Nicole replied without hesitation, “Are you crazy? How could I ever forget you?” She wrapped Charlie in a reassuring hug and as they parted, pulled Charlie close enough to rest their foreheads together, looked into her eyes and said, “Together forever.”<br/> <br/>They finished packing Nicole’s room, except her bed, and got ready for the moving truck to show up the following day. “Can I stay with you one last time?” Charlie pleaded.<br/> <br/>“I hoped you wouldn’t leave me tonight,” Nicole confided, as they headed downstairs for dinner.<br/> <br/>The next day, Charlie helped load Nicole’s boxes, all neatly labeled “Nicole’s Room,” into the moving truck. Afterward, the girls sat on the porch steps as the rest of the contents of the house were loaded.<br/> <br/>After the truck was full and its door latched and secured, Nicole’s dad walked out of the house, climbed into the moving truck and pulled out of the driveway without a word. Soon after, Charlie’s mom arrived to pick her up. Charlie and Nicole hugged tightly and promised to call and write. Nicole reminded her, “It’s only two hours!” Nicole’s mom walked over to the car and patiently waited for Nicole to finish her goodbyes. It was finally time for the Haught family to head to Purgatory. Nicole gave Charlie one last hug, wiped the tears out of her eyes and got into the passenger seat of the car, next to her mom. As they pulled away, she watched Charlie dwindle in the mirror until they turned the corner. Nicole leaned her head back against the headrest, took a deep breath, and settled in for the long drive.<br/> <br/>Meanwhile, in Purgatory—<br/> <br/>Her name was Waverly. Waverly Earp. She had been voted, “Nicest person in Purgatory” for the last two years. She was ranked first in her class academically, she was head cheerleader, and she was dating the captain of the football team. She was Purgatory’s darling and relished in her position as the kind, athletic, intellectual of Purgatory High School. Her life seemed simplistic to her—she always knew the next right step and enthusiastically pursued it. Until the last football game. Waverly replayed the memory again in her mind, for the thousandth time—immediately after the game concluded, she had looked over to see a tall red haired girl, of a similar age to herself, walking toward her with a singular focus. Waverly had been unable to look away. Their eyes had locked on one another’s, and the crowd’s raucous noise had faded to silence. Waverly shook her head. She had never experienced anything like it—the auditory exclusion, the complete tunnel vision—she had read about how the effects of adrenaline could have such an effect, but had never personally felt it before. And just as the beautiful auburn haired girl had opened her mouth to speak, Waverly’s boyfriend had crashed through the haze and broken the spell. Last week, in her independent Latin study, she had learned the phrase, “Lux splendida.” It meant, “bright light.” She felt like the red haired girl had been standing in a spot light, a lux splendida, gravitating steadily toward her as if compelled by an outside force. It both fascinated and terrified Waverly to think of the implications of the almost encounter. Regardless, she couldn’t get the girl’s face out of her mind, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know what to do next. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come find us on Twitter if you are so inclined! Anxious_Life is @Jescyka88 and Rabid_Dolphin is @dolphin_rabid55</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nicole's first day at Purgatory High School.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they drove past the weather worn “Welcome to Purgatory” sign on the outskirts of town, Nicole perked up, curious about her new home. Honestly, it was just a normal looking town with a quaint Main Street full of small shops, a local grocery store, and a well-kept city park. Mrs. Haught maneuvered the car through the town’s center, and eventually turned into a neighborhood with trees large enough to cast shade over the street. She paused carefully at a four-way stop, and then turned left on Andras Lane, where she cheerfully announced, “Here we are!” as she parked behind their moving truck. Nicole stepped out of the car and paused to observe her new house—it was actually quite lovely. It was light gray, with brick pillars on a large front porch which extended across the front of the home. It was a single story, so it looked smaller than their last house, but it was cute and she admitted she felt both curious and excited to see inside. Nicole realized she had been staring and glanced over to see her mom patiently waiting for her daughter’s reaction. Nicole smiled, and her mom seemed relieved by the small gesture. Together, they walked toward the front door. </p><p>Mr. Haught and the movers were already emptying the moving truck into the house and he did not pause to acknowledge Nicole or her mom, for which Nicole was grateful. She really just needed time to take in her new surroundings without any parental pressure. Slowly, Nicole entered the house with her mom right behind her. “Come on, honey, I’ll show you to your room,” her mom said with a nudge. They walked through a decent size living room with an open floor plan which led into an adorable kitchen, and down a hallway. Her mom gestured toward the first door on the left, and Nicole walked into her new room for the first time. It was at least as big as her last bedroom, with an even larger closet, which she absentmindedly thought would be perfect for all of her basketball gear. Her mom pointed out the bathroom across the hall, and said the master bath and bedroom were on the other side of the house. Nicole could tell her mom wanted to give her a full tour, but Nicole needed a little time to herself to adjust. Mrs. Haught wisely recognized her only child’s mood. She gave Nicole’s shoulder a squeeze, pecked her on the cheek, and excused herself to supervise the placement of furniture, leaving Nicole to get settled. Nicole shut her bedroom door and took a few deep breaths. She knew she had to get her room unpacked—but she also needed to process the emotions of leaving her childhood home and acclimating to brand new surroundings. After ten minutes of mindfulness, Nicole strode out of her room to begin claiming her boxes and furniture. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she and Charlie had packed it all into the moving truck, but in reality it had been earlier the same morning.</p><p>Nicole spent the weekend unpacking and arranging her room the way she wanted it. She got permission from her mom to hang pictures and posters on her walls. She was able to incorporate Charlie into the new room via several framed photographs she had printed before the move. Nicole distracted herself from missing her friend by carefully centering her favorite Toronto Raptors poster above her bed, and meticulously arranging all of her basketball trophies and medals on her bookshelf. Nicole already missed Charlie terribly, even though they had been texting nonstop. The thought of starting a new school tomorrow without the comforting presence of Char was a little terrifying. Nicole just really wanted to find her niche at Purgatory High School. She also idly wondered if the mystery brunette cheerleader would recognize her if and when they bumped into each other at school. Finally, right before bed, Nicole picked out an outfit she thought would be fitting for a first day, and retired to bed.</p><p>Surprisingly, Nicole slept great. She woke up, showered, and stood in the mirror for quite some time wondering if she should braid her hair, or leave it down. Finally, she settled on her trademark tight French braid, dressed in her favorite buffalo plaid shirt and ripped jeans, grabbed her backpack and headed to the kitchen. Her mom was just about ready for her first day as well, and looked even more nervous than Nicole. Mrs. Haught refilled her coffee cup a final time, and they walked out of the house together. Nicole had been riding to school with her mom for years, since her mom had always been a teacher, so the routine felt familiar and comforting. Neither said much on the way, both lost in their own thoughts of how today would go. Nicole’s mom had explained Purgatory was quite a bit smaller than her last school, and Nicole wondered if that would somehow increase her chances of seeing the cheerleader. Mrs. Haught pulled into the High School parking lot and found her designated “Principal” spot, labeled with a crooked sign. Nicole giggled and decided the shop class must have made the small placard. </p><p>Long ago, to prevent embarrassment at school, Nicole and her mom had worked out a code phrase Nicole could publicly say which equated to, “I love you.” Nicole stepped out of the car, swung her backpack onto her shoulder and said, “How ‘bout those Raptors?” to her mom. Mrs. Haught smiled at the familiar expression and replied, “Have a great day, honey.” This was the first time Mrs. Haught had worked in the same building where Nicole had class, so walking into the school together was different, but Nicole smiled at her mom and strode off to figure out her schedule. She carried herself with the same confidence she always had, despite her nervousness. </p><p>After wandering the hallways for the first three periods, Nicole had the general layout of the small school mostly memorized. So far, each teacher had introduced her in front of the class as, “The new principal’s daughter,” which she absolutely despised. Nicole had her own identity beyond being the administrator’s kid, and she really didn’t appreciate the designation, but smiled and accepted that by the end of the day everyone would know exactly who she was. By fourth hour, Nicole had relaxed enough to begin actively looking for the cheerleader and as she entered the newest class, she conducted a scan before taking a seat. Shortly after, a well-built guy in a football letter jacket strutted into the classroom in a way Nicole could only describe as “cocky.” He was loud and borderline annoying, but seemed fairly popular with the other students. He straddled a chair directly in front of Nicole as the teacher walked in the room. Literature was not Nicole’s favorite subject, but she felt she could hold her own since the students all had a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird out on their desks and she had read the book previously at her old school. Halfway through the class, the teacher stopped to ask questions, and called on the football player in front. “Mr. Hardy, what do you suppose this chapter was about?” Nicole instantly recognized the name and internally froze. Hardy? She thought to herself. This is him? This is the football player that swept her mystery girl away from her? Nicole heard the jock respond, “That Scout girl is probably gonna grow up to be a lesbian! Why do we even have to read this garbage?” Nicole completely zoned out without hearing the teacher’s response and before she knew it, the bell rang signaling the lunch break. She gathered her things and exited the classroom, still dumbfounded. Just what did her mystery girl see in this pompous jackass? And what kind of town had she just moved to?</p><p>After a solitary lunch where she mulled over what type of person would date someone like the homophobic football player, and realizing her hope of seeing the brunette had faded, Nicole headed to her locker; which, coincidentally, was right across from the principal’s office. She knew she didn’t have much time to get there and switch books before class, so she was in a bit of a rush when she arrived. </p><p>As soon as she opened her locker she heard her mom’s voice state, “Hey, honey, how is your first day?” </p><p>It probably sounded a lot louder to Nicole than it actually was, but in the moment Nicole felt like every student in the crowded hallway suddenly turned to stare at her. Quickly, with her face as red as her hair, she turned around to face her mom. </p><p>“Pretty good, Mom, but I’ve got to hurry to get to class. Talk at home?” She replied, already backing away in an embarrassment fueled retreat. </p><p>“Ok, dear, but...” </p><p>All of the sudden, over her mom’s shoulder, Nicole saw her. Mrs. Haught’s voice faded to mute. The congested hallway became silent in Nicole’s mind. The girl was at a locker only ten away from her own and on the opposite side of the hall. Their eyes met, and Nicole saw a look of surprise and recognition dawn on the other girl.  </p><p>For several moments, they just stared at each other until Mrs. Haught’s voice broke through the haze, “Ok, I’m done, hurry up and get to class.” At the same time, the mystery girl had turned away to shut her locker.</p><p>Nicole realized this was the third time she had zoned out staring at the same girl, this time in front of her mom, and exclaimed, “Yea, alright!” as she abruptly brushed past her mom, mortified. Nicole walked toward fifth period and saw the girl enter the classroom right ahead of her. </p><p>Nicole spent the first half of the day thinking she might never see the girl, but much to her pleasant surprise, discovered they shared the last several classes of the day. Later, after school, Nicole would realize she only faintly recalled what subjects the classes even covered; except for her final period, which was basketball. Basketball was her favorite class that first day. Nicole met Coach Scrofano, who was somewhat abrupt, but not unkind, and welcomed Nicole with a, “Is it too soon to make ‘Haught’ jokes?” Scrofano told Nicole she wasn’t hosting another tryout until Thursday so Nicole would have to hang out in the bleachers until then—and when Nicole took her seat in the bleachers, she realized with a surge of appreciation that she had a front row seat to cheerleading practice. It wasn’t a very large gymnasium, so even seated toward the top of the bleachers, she could clearly see the brunette. Every so often Nicole’s mystery crush glanced up toward Nicole, who then had to pretend like she wasn’t observing their coordinated efforts. Just as she was sure her stares were about to be noticed, a pretty blonde on crutches entered the gym. The girl looked around, spotted Nicole, and made her way over to sit down right next to her. </p><p>“Hi. I’m Chrissy,” she said with a smile. </p><p>“Nicole,” she answered easily, with a smile of her own. </p><p>“You’re new here, huh?” Chrissy asked bluntly. “What brings you to our small little town?” </p><p>“Um,” Nicole started, while scratching her head, “My mom is the new principal.” </p><p>Chrissy nodded her understanding, “Yea, I get it. My dad is the Sheriff.” </p><p>The two easily conversed after that, getting to know one another, and Nicole almost felt like she was talking with Charlie. Chrissy was also a junior, and would hopefully be returning to the basketball team as soon as her ankle sprain healed. </p><p>After they had talked comfortably for over half the class period Nicole hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you a question, Chrissy?” </p><p>“Well, duh. We are friends,” Chrissy replied, using her crutch to lightly poke at Nicole’s nearest foot.</p><p>Nicole chuckled at Chrissy’s antics and playfully pushed the crutch away. “That girl,” Nicole said, pointing toward the brunette cheerleader, “what’s her name?” </p><p>“Oh, that’s Waverly Earp!” Chrissy answered excitedly. “She’s one of my best friends and she is the sweetest thing in this town. She’s always smiling, always helping people, and she is, like, super smart. Did you know she skipped seventh grade completely because she’s basically a genius!?” </p><p>Nicole didn’t say much else, just provided appropriate non-verbal responses as Chrissy went on about Waverly. Nicole was thrilled to learn as much as she could about her crush and happily let Chrissy chat away. When the bell rang, Nicole wanted to wait to talk to Waverly, but her mom had told her to be at the principal’s office promptly after school so they could ride home together. With a wistful glance toward the cheerleaders, Nicole bid Chrissy farewell and made her way back toward the school offices.   </p><p>As she walked, Nicole rolled the name around in her mind. Waverly. After weeks of wondering, and daydreaming, she finally had a name; and it was as beautiful to Nicole as the girl herself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find us on Twitter and give us a shout if you are so inclined!</p><p>@dolphin_rabid55 and @Jescyka88</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Waverly’s POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nearly ten days after the last football game, Waverly again found herself alone in her bedroom, lost in thought. She paced around her bed, wearing a path into the old floorboards, thinking earnestly. Waverly had always found comfort in logically deliberated deductions. She enjoyed the mental exercise of circling around an issue, seeing all angles, weighing the pros and cons, and the subsequent and swift implementation of the most efficient solution. Yet here she was, still circling the same memory repeatedly, without nearing any sort of conclusion. She felt frustrated by her inability to stave off her own cognitive dissonance regarding the issue. She had just recently learned about cognitive dissonance in her college level online Psychology 101 course and was pleased she at least had accurate terminology to describe her own feelings—but that was the only positive result of the whole scenario. According to her text book, cognitive dissonance referred to a situation in which a person had conflicting feelings or attitudes. For example, a person who smoked tobacco but also knew it was linked to cancer would experience the conflict, or mental discomfort, of dissonance. Mental discomfort perfectly described Waverly’s state of mind. She drifted back in her mind to the football game—to the strange moment she had been unable to successfully catalogue ever since. She had dissected each second of the memory in an effort to make sense of it. What was it about the red haired girl? Why did her heart suddenly race at the memory of the stranger’s approach? Waverly had not experienced a similar rush of adrenaline since last month’s animal cruelty march. And the spontaneous generation of a Latin phrase in her mind? Was she crazy? None of it made sense—the feelings cascading through her mind and plummeting into the depths of her stomach each time she remembered time slowing to a crawl, and the crowd’s noise fading to silence as the ginger beauty approached. Waverly inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and in her most rational, analytical, inner voice, began to list the emotions she experienced at the sight of the girl. Curiosity, obviously. Excitement—that explained the adrenaline. Nervousness...could account for the butterfly sensation.<br/> <br/>Arousal?<br/> <br/>Attraction?!?<br/> <br/>Her eyes slammed open and locked with her own reflection in the mirror. And then she thought of Champ, her sweet, albeit kind of stupid, jock boyfriend. Well…at least she had figured out the source of the dissonance. Her head dropped into her hands as she sank down onto her bed. She had school tomorrow. She would see Champ tomorrow. She had a lot to consider.<br/> <br/>The next morning, after a somewhat fitful night’s sleep, Waverly got dressed and headed to school with a sense of determination. After admitting she had experienced a somewhat visceral physical attraction to a total stranger—to a girl—she had then applied her scientific method of reasoning and examined the situation at length. And then she came to a conclusion. Champ wasn’t so bad. He acted as a strategic social networking facilitator which provided Waverly access to the social hierarchy she otherwise might be unable to breach. And since he was Captain of the football team and she was Head cheerleader, their relationship had a natural balance which the rest of the school seemed to accept without question. Even the community seemed to approve of their pairing. Waverly knew Purgatory would not play the red-haired girl’s school again in football this season and the odds of ever seeing the attractive girl, who most likely lived two hours away, was a statistical improbability. So, Waverly decided to just chalk the moment up as a singular event, and to simply continue living her life as usual.<br/> <br/>It was a Monday, so Waverly met Champ in the parking lot as usual, and they walked inside together holding hands. He was loud and crass, but still a familiar presence. She had always enjoyed established routines, and her relationship with Champ was exactly that—established and routine. The first half of the day was uneventful. Waverly felt she had finally been able to successfully compartmentalize the memory of the redhead into her brain and felt like her normal self for the first time since the incident. Waverly heard one of her teachers mention a new Principal had started today and that the Principal’s daughter was in the same grade as her. She made a mental note to introduce herself to them both this week. She went off campus for lunch with Champ, who paid for her salad and then seemed to think he deserved some sort of quid pro quo for his trouble. She easily deflected his clumsy advances by distracting him with an Instagram account about swimwear models and then it was time for them to return to school.<br/> <br/>Waverly kissed Champ on the cheek as he headed to his locker on the opposite end of the hall and she walked to her own. She had her hand on her locker door and was about to turn toward her class when her oh so carefully constructed compartmentalization was obliterated. In the middle of the hallway, her own high school hallway in Purgatory, stood the redhead. Waverly’s mouth dropped open and she openly stared at the girl, whose eyes had widened at the sight of Waverly. Waverly wasn’t sure how long their shared gaze persisted, but eventually she remembered to breathe, shut her locker door, and walked to her next class. The rest of the day was a blur for Waverly. The new girl was in all of her afternoon classes and Waverly felt like she was on the cusp of hyperventilating the whole time. All of the feelings she had so carefully pushed down into manageable places came rushing back. Waverly couldn’t even say what material was covered in any of her classes that afternoon and absently considered how she would have to ask her friend Chrissy for the homework assignments after school.<br/> <br/>Waverly felt a sense of relief as she headed into her last period of the day, which was cheerleading practice. She knew the girl wasn’t on the cheer squad or Waverly would have already been told. Plus, cheerleading was structured, regimented, and focused on uniformity. She could lose herself in the physical exertion and get a mental reprieve from her brain’s overthinking. Waverly changed into her practice gear and walked onto the court to begin stretching with her team. She felt herself slowly calming with each familiar movement and her breathing returned to normal. Until she caught a flash of red in the stands and looked up to see her best friend Chrissy sitting down next to the redhead. So much for a reprieve.<br/> <br/>It was the hardest practice Waverly had ever endured. She constantly felt the presence of the beautiful girl—physically felt aware of her in a way she had never been aware any other human. And it decimated her focus on practice. She found herself glancing up toward the girl every now and then, and it seemed each time the girl was looking back. When the final bell sounded, Waverly didn’t wait for her friends or stop to socialize. She hurried to the locker room to change. She was on a mission, had to do it, had to figure the new girl out. Waverly threw on her clothes so quickly she might as well have been Superman in a phone booth and raced back into the gym, only to find it empty. And thus, the longest night of her life began.<br/> <br/>When she returned home, she again attempted to dissect the day. As the hours ticked by, she realized she had scheduled a date with Champ. Waverly knew she couldn’t spend any time with him in her state of confusion, so she called and cancelled. He whined and pleaded and then threw a tantrum but she simply blamed it on her sister, Wynonna, being drunk again (which wasn’t abnormal), and said she needed to take care of her. As soon as she got off of the phone with Champ, Waverly called Chrissy. Chrissy had been seated right next to the girl in the gym and was a very chatty gal, so Waverly felt confident Chrissy would tell her everything. After getting the homework assignments from Chrissy engaging in a bit of small talk, Waverly gathered her nerve and asked the burning question, “Who was that girl with you in the bleachers during gym class?” She was nervous, and really hoped her nervousness wasn’t apparent to Chrissy.<br/> <br/>“Oh, her name is Nicole. She’s new here, and her mom is the new Principal. It’s funny you asked though, because she asked about you, too!”<br/> <br/>Chrissy chatted away about the topics she and Nicole had discussed and Waverly tried desperately to digest all the information. After a few more pleasantries, Waverly ended the conversation and fell on her bed staring at the ceiling lost in thought. “She asked about me? Why?” She said out loud. “What does that mean?”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Nicole Meets Waverly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WayHaught Wednesday! We originally wanted to post twice a week, but determined two chapters was just not a realistic goal. Anxious_Life has a bustling family and I have a tv addiction--so we will continue to update on Wednesdays for the foreseeable future.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Nicole woke up bright-eyed, several minutes before her alarm chimed. She was nervous, but vibrated with excitement over the prospect of finally meeting her Waverly. Nicole just wanted to talk to her, get to know her, find out what made her laugh, discover Waverly’s favorite color and learn what playlists she listened to most. Nicole’s mind whirred with potential topics of conversation and subtle inquiries to find out as much as she could about the girl. </p>
<p>Nicole took longer than normal to get dressed, and took extra care with her hair—after some mental deliberation, she decided to wear it down, loosely curled. It took longer to fix, but she was trying to make an impression and did not mind the extra effort. It fell softly just past her shoulders once she finished styling it. She carefully chose her outfit to balance her naturally vibrant auburn mane and felt confident she had achieved the look she wanted when she did a final check in the full-length mirror. </p>
<p>Nicole heard her mom shout a five minute warning before it was time to leave and quickly collected her homework and books and threw them into her backpack. She grabbed a granola bar from the pantry, an apple from the fruit basket, and strode out the front door to meet her mom at the car. Mrs. Haught immediately noticed Nicole’s hair was not only down, but styled, and started to inquire as to why it was fixed differently; however, after she observed her daughter’s knee bouncing nervously and the look of furrowed concentration on Nicole’s face, decided to play it cool and let the change in hairstyle go without comment. Mrs. Haught briefly wondered if Nicole had met a boy who had inspired the preening, but wisely decided to just give her space and observe.</p>
<p>Nicole vaguely recognized conversation between she and her mom on the way to school seemed abbreviated, but assumed her mom had her own stresses to worry about. With each passing minute of the drive, Nicole’s answers to her mom’s routine inquiries grew more abrupt because of her rising nervousness. Nicole took a moment to mentally reflect on how she was feeling—it was her second day, and technically she should feel less nervous than yesterday because she knew her class schedule, had met all her teachers, and had made at least one friend. She couldn’t help but wonder what all the feelings meant. She instinctually recognized the level of apprehension she was experiencing had nothing to do with school and everything to do with Waverly. She had come to terms with her own attraction toward Waverly. She definitely found Waverly to be beautiful and desperately wanted to know her. But how would she know if Waverly was attracted to her? How did girls figure this sort of thing out?? </p>
<p>As her mom pulled up to the school, Nicole decided to sit in the car for a few minutes alone. When her mom parked and started to exit the car, she noticed Nicole hadn’t moved. With a knowing glance, Mrs. Haught gave Nicole’s arm a loving squeeze before she exited the vehicle and graciously allowed Nicole some privacy. </p>
<p>Nicole knew she needed a pep talk; someone to tell her what to say; someone to remind her to be herself, and to, “Go for it.” She needed Charlie. Nicole missed many of the familiarities and friends from her last town, but most of all, she missed Charlie. Nicole sent her friend a text message that said, “Feeling nervous. Need a boost.” </p>
<p>Almost immediately Charlie fired back a, “You Can Do It!” Gif, a photo of Nicole aggressively blocking an opponent’s shot during a basketball game, and a message that said, “Kick some Purgatory ass, ‘Cole. You got this.” </p>
<p>Nicole laughed at her friend’s immediate and intense reply, and the laughter snapped her out of her funk and she sent quick kissy-face emoji in reply. She pulled down the visor, looked herself in the eye using the mirror, and mentally fortified herself. With her usual confidence regained, and only a few minutes to spare, Nicole briskly walked to class. </p>
<p>The minutes on the clock ticked by slowly, and Nicole struggled to stay even half focused on the teachers and the subject matter in her first few hours. As lunch crept nearer, her excitement continued to grow exponentially. Nicole knew she would probably encounter Waverly in the hall near their lockers after lunch, and wanted to be on her game. Between second and third periods Nicole bumped into Chrissy in the hall and smiled warmly at and greeted her new friend. Chrissy didn’t really slow down because her crutches made it hard for her to get to classes on time, but gave Nicole an affectionate shoulder bump and smile as she passed.</p>
<p>During third hour, instead of focusing on schoolwork, Nicole crafted a plan, complete with numbered steps, in her notebook. She thought the focus on structure and organization would calm her nerves. She used to draw up basketball plays before games at her old school and figured it would have a similar soothing effect. </p>
<p>Operation Waverly<br/>Step 1: Approach locker after lunch.<br/>Step 2: Casually rummage through locker contents while peripherally scanning for Waverly.<br/>Step 3: Stand tall, confident and obvious for Waverly to notice her. <br/>Step 4: Make eye contact, smile, and approach for an introduction. </p>
<p>By the end of the hour, she was confident in her plan, and entered fourth hour feeling good, feeling ready. She intentionally sat further from where Hardy had been seated the day before and spent the hour going over her plan and mentally practicing how she would say hello. By the time the bell rang, she had her backpack zipped closed and was able to slip out ahead of most of the class for lunch. She ate her granola bar and apple, snagged a bottle of water from the vending machine, and then headed for the restroom to brush her teeth and do a list minute mirror check of her hair and clothes. The last thing Nicole wanted to do was feel self-conscious about her breath or her teeth when she finally met the brunette. As she was about to open the bathroom door, Nicole saw Chrissy hobbling down the hall. Chrissy smiled and said, “Nicole! I meant to tell you your hair looks super cute down!”  </p>
<p>“Thanks!” Nicole replied with a smile and a wave, as she turned toward the bathroom door. Nicole reached forward to push on the door at the same time as someone pulled it open from inside. Off balance, Nicole stumbled through the doorway and into an unsuspecting pair of arms. “Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Nicole started to say as she regained her footing, pulled her hair out of her eyes, and looked down at the poor girl she had nearly tackled in the bathroom. Nicole froze. The face staring back at hers was equally as startled by their encounter—and it belonged to Waverly. Nicole, paralyzed by shock, belatedly remembered to breathe and sucked in a loud breath.</p>
<p>“Actually, it’s my fault, I was practicing my Latin phrases, and I wasn’t paying attention,” Waverly stuttered, as she looked up and locked eyes with the red head. The two fell into silence, staring at one another from a mere foot away, as they blushed in unison. Nicole finally smiled, her dimples on full display, and Waverly’s eyes widened until she abruptly looked down at her own feet. “Anyway, sorry again!” Waverly said, her voice too loud in the small space, and stepped forcefully toward the door. </p>
<p>“Actually,” Nicole interjected, desperate to extend the encounter, “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught,” she said warmly, and extended her hand. Waverly turned back to Nicole, shyly met her eyes, then reached out and firmly shook Nicole’s hand even as she chuckled nervously. Waverly smiled, causing Nicole’s breath to hitch, and replied brightly, “I’m Waverly Earp.” As she clutched Waverly’s hand, all the thoughts of her meticulous plan raced through her mind and she desperately tried to form a coherent sentence. </p>
<p>“You have quite the reputation around here, Waverly,” she said to break the silence, as she reluctantly released Waverly’s hand.</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s all about the smile and wave,” Waverly demonstrated with an infections giggle.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, I talked to a friend of yours who spoke very fondly of you. Said you were the ‘gem’ of Purgatory,” Nicole replied with a crooked smile, regaining her confidence as she picked up Waverly’s backpack that had fallen during the collision and extended it toward the brunette.</p>
<p>“Chrissy Nedley. I saw you guys sitting on the bleachers together,” Waverly said with a nod of her head. “She’s my best friend, she has to say that.” Waverly accepted the bag with another smile and settled it on her shoulder, as Nicole, without hesitation, stepped closer to her. </p>
<p>“Want to walk to class together?” Nicole asked, knowing they had to get out of the bathroom soon.</p>
<p>“I’d love to, um, I’d like to,” Waverly said nervously correcting herself. She looked at Nicole, then glanced away and said softly, “But I have a boyfriend and we walk to class together, usually.” Nicole swore she picked up a note of regret in the smaller girl’s voice when she mentioned the boyfriend.</p>
<p>Nicole looked into the brunette’s eyes and infused as much sincerity into her words as felt appropriate as she stated, “Oh, yea. No problem. We will do it another time...I mean it.” </p>
<p>Nicole flashed another dimpled smile before she turned around and walked out of the bathroom alone. She wanted to hide somewhere, just to allow herself time to breath and process and memorize. She had literally run into Waverly, collided with her small but solid frame, stood a foot away from her, caught the scent of her shampoo, and experienced the constellations of freckles across the bridge of her nose. And when their hands had connected, Nicole swore a live current of energy had spiked through her hand and straight into her stomach causing a collection of hyperactive butterflies to take enthusiastic flight. Even now, as she blindly ambled toward her locker, she was unsure how to regain her composure. So she opened her locker and pretended to look through it. Her feign attempt at normalcy bought her just enough time to reconnect with the school day and get her through. </p>
<p>Unbeknownst to Nicole, Mrs. Haught was just inside the glass door to her office as Nicole walked to her locker. Mrs. Haught cocked her head to the side and tried to read the expression on her daughter’s face—she looked, well she honestly looked completely smitten. Nicole’s eyes were slightly dazed, she had a grin plastered across her face, and she was completely unaware of anything going on around her. Mrs. Haught considered the evidence—the hair worn down, the quiet nervousness during the car ride, and Nicole’s twitterpated countenance—and smiled as she wondered to herself exactly who had caught her daughter’s attention in only two short days of school.</p>
<p>Finally, again during gym class, Nicole sat alone in the bleachers. She chose a seat on the opposite side of the gym from the cheerleaders and tried not to stare as they practiced. She closed her eyes and set about the business of reliving every second she had spent with Waverly. They had touched, twice. They had spoken, briefly. Somehow, Waverly was even more breathtakingly beautiful up close. Nicole was so affected by the memory of her face and the floral scent of her hair that she felt dizzy and gripped the bleacher on either side of her to stay upright. Nicole knew their brief pleasantries didn’t exactly count as a full conversation—and there was still an infinite amount of information Nicole wanted to know about the tiny girl. Nicole thought back to the angle at which she had looked down into Waverly’s eyes and smiled softly at their height disparity—it made Nicole feel protective of the girl. Seated in the stands of a high school gymnasium, unable to tear her mind away from someone she had barely met, Nicole flushed and wondered how she would satisfy her desperate compulsion to know Waverly Earp better.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Real Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To our faithful readers--my sincerest apology for the significant delay in posting. Life happened SO hard. My thanks to Anxious_Life for gently prodding me back into editing, a task I genuinely enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After only meeting her once, already there were many things Nicole admired about Waverly. She loved the genuine innocence that shone so brightly in the brunette’s eyes; the purity of a heart that seemed unable to harbor even the hint of negativity; and how when Waverly entered a room a tidal wave of sunshine cascaded in with her. Mostly, she liked the way her eyes looked when she smiled—how they curved upward with joy and flashed a more brilliant hazel—those vibrant eyes, and Waverly’s beauty, had enchanted Nicole. As Nicole got dressed for school the day after her literal collision with Waverly, she pondered all the reasons she couldn’t stop thinking about the brunette. Since the brief encounter, in a school bathroom of all places, Nicole had been constantly distracted by the memory. She was determined…no, it was more than determination—she was compelled. Compelled to get to know the girl who had her own internal source of light. Nicole simply had to memorize the brunette’s addictive smile and find a way to be the cause of it as often as possible. Somewhere in her conscious mind, Nicole knew she was falling victim to the cliché of a love struck teen and she also knew she was powerless against her own wants and emotions—and she knew she did not care if she was a cliché, because Waverly was so special.</p><p>Like every school day, she heard her mom shout a five-minute warning, urging her to focus on gathering her things. Nicole glanced in the mirror one last time, ran her fingers through her hair, which she had styled down again, and headed for the door. She grabbed a banana from the fruit basked as she passed the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind her. </p><p>The car ride was livelier this morning as her mom peppered her with questions relentlessly the whole drive. “Alright, what’s his name?” Mrs. Haught queried bluntly after a moment of silence a few minutes into the drive. </p><p>Nicole nearly choked on the bite of banana she had just inhaled. After a few small coughs, she cleared her throat and answered dismissively, “What? No one, Mom.” </p><p>“I’ve worked around teenagers long enough to know a puppy love when I see it—and it is written all over your face. So, who is he?” Mrs. Haught insisted. </p><p>Nicole stared out the windshield for a minute and thought about her options. Not only was she shocked by her mother’s unexpected confrontation, she bristled at the assumption that the mystery person was a “he.” Nicole realized she had spent all of her recent time daydreaming about Waverly and had not even considered how to have this conversation with her mom—how to “come out” to her. Mostly because she had no idea how to articulate all of the rampant emotions she was experiencing. All she really knew was she was absolutely crazy about a girl with whom she had shared one brief conversation. Mrs. Haught could sense Nicole was processing the question, not just avoiding the subject, and wisely allowed Nicole the time she needed. As they neared the school, Nicole mustered her courage to just say what was on her mind, hoping she could time it so there wouldn’t be any follow-up questions. Nicole set her jaw and asked through clenched teeth, “Who says it’s a boy anyway? What if it’s not?” Nicole kept her eyes forward as she said the words, and watched her mom pull into a parking space. Mrs. Haught did not have an immediate response as she parked, and Nicole basically leapt out of the car the second it stopped and marched into school with her back ramrod straight. She knew the discussion with her mom wasn’t over—obviously her mom would have questions—but she had started the conversation and she was proud of herself for forcing out the hard words. Even though she would have to explain herself, the wheels were in motion and her mom had time to think about what Nicole had said. </p><p>At her locker, she shook off the jitters from the car ride and checked her hair in the mirror on her locker door—which was when she caught a glimpse of a beautiful brunette looking her way. Her attention was immediately refocused away from the conversation with her mom and back to Waverly. Nicole wasted no time in shutting her locker, then turned and closed the distance between them.  </p><p>“Good morning. I see you’re alone today,” she said with a dimpled smile, as Waverly looked up at her. As Nicole entered the brunette’s space, she felt the warmth of bright sunshine envelop her. </p><p>“Um, yea, my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend,” Waverly stuttered. “He tried to finish the Ultimate Burger Challenge at Shorty’s last night, and he is feeling it today.” Waverly glanced away from Nicole’s smiling face, but then her eyes were drawn back to the redhead’s and they both broke into grins as they took each other in. </p><p>“Oh,” Nicole said with a small smirk. “Well…you do owe me that walk to class. Seems like a pretty good day to do it.” Nicole waited patiently as Waverly considered the offer, content to bask in Waverly’s presence. </p><p>Waverly’s eyes never left Nicole’s as she shut her locker and paused to consider the proposition, and then, without her mind’s input, her voice said, “Sounds great!” </p><p>Nicole glanced at her watch and realized it was early enough that if they walked straight to class they would not have much time together, but there was sufficient time for them to go outside and actually talk for a few minutes. She ran her hand through her hair for effect, turned her dimples up to their highest setting and looked at Waverly. “Hey, what if we go outside and talk for a few? Before class? We have time,” she stated with more confidence than she actually felt. Waverly easily agreed and the two fell into step beside one another. </p><p>Nicole’s mind raced to find a topic of conversation and she blurted, “Latin phrases?” Waverly looked up at her, confused, as they approached a bench to sit down. </p><p>Nicole quickly realized the brunette had no context and laughed as she explained, “Yesterday, you said you were practicing your Latin phrases. Is that even a class?” </p><p>Waverly laughed easily and explained about her independent study and her love of the classical language and really all things historical. Nicole gently prodded the brunette to continue talking about herself and soaked up each fact and tidbit attentively. Nicole realized she could listen to Waverly talk about Latin, of all things, endlessly—she just wanted to savor the girl’s presence and get to know her. Waverly was obviously brilliant, like, legitimately intelligent, and Nicole was fascinated by her mind. Every subject they discussed was infused with facts Nicole had never heard. Nicole was intoxicated by everything Waverly—but despite their running dialogue, Nicole knew she still wasn’t privy to what Waverly was actually thinking—she hoped someday to know her true thoughts. Nicole also had to remind herself that Waverly had a boyfriend, but despite the knowledge, her emotions continued to fill her with attraction and fondness for the girl.</p><p>All too soon, the girls realized time had gotten away from them and were forced to rush to class. “Thanks for the talk!” Nicole said in a hurry before parting ways. </p><p>“Of course, let’s do it again sometime,” Waverly replied with a smile, and scurried off to class. </p><p>Nicole openly grinned as she ran to her first hour class. Waverly wanted to hang out again! She had gotten to spend time with the girl, finally, and it had not disappointed. Their conversation had flowed effortlessly. Nicole found herself remembering how the sun had illuminated the side of the brunette’s face, how her perfect lips had curved into a smile when her eyes met Nicole’s. She walked into class, took her seat as the bell rang, and immediately cast her gaze on the clock to begin her countdown to seeing Waverly again.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Coming Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nicole comes out to her mom, Waverly makes a decision about Champ, and Nicole’s basketball tryout is interrupted</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is our longest chapter yet—we felt it was necessary to make some things happen for our story line. We truly love your comments and support and we are so thankful to you for reading along.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 9.</p><p>The walk to the car after school was intense. Nicole was apprehensive about the impending onslaught of questions she would endure from her mom on the way home. She felt a brief twinge of regret for her lack of restraint on the morning drive—why had she challenged her mom like that? Why had she been so impulsive? Sure, it felt good to finally speak a truth to someone, but her courage completely dissipated as she approached the car. Adding to her stress, today after gym class, Coach Scrofano had called Nicole over and told her tryouts were tomorrow. Nicole had stated confidently, “I’ll be ready.” The coach sauntered away with an enthusiastic, “Bring your A game, Haught stuff!” Nicole did not, in fact, feel confident about the tryout. She should have spent her time in the bleachers learning the other players’ names, positions, and styles of play. She should have watched their offensive and defensive strategies and determined how and where her own skills would mesh—but instead she had stared at Waverly and chatted with Chrissy. Instead of walking into the tryout informed, she would have to treat it like a pick up game and rely entirely on her height and natural talent, both of which she had in abundance. But still, she should have studied. </p><p>And then she was standing at the passenger side of the car, with her fingers gripped around the door handle and her mother waiting inside. Nicole took a deep breath, opened the door and collapsed into the seat with an exaggerated sigh. Contrary to what Nicole imagined, her mom was bubbly and, well, normal. Asking the general “how was your day, honey?” And, “what did you eat for lunch?” Nicole mentioned the basketball tryout, and stiffly remained eyes forward and wary, but as they closed the distance toward home, Nicole began to relax. Maybe her mom wasn’t going to bring it up...</p><p>What Nicole didn’t know, was after her sharp tongued retort that morning in response to feeling misunderstood and attacked, and then her abrupt departure, Mrs. Haught had time to think. After the initial shock of her daughter’s revelation, she was able to recover and thoughtfully consider what questions to ask, how to be supportive, and how to make Nicole feel safe and seen. As they turned onto Andras Lane, and neared their house, they both seemed more relaxed, back in their normal rhythm. Mrs. Haught pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and softly asked Nicole to stay for a bit so they could talk. Immediately, a wave of anxiety hit the redhead as she hesitantly agreed. Nicole fidgeted nervously in the subsequent silence. After what seemed like an eternity, her mom finally spoke.</p><p>“About what you said this morning, I am sorry I assumed things about you that I can’t possibly know.” Her voice was soft and sensitive as she turned and faced her daughter. “Is it true? Are you having feelings for another girl?” She asked the question gently, holding the fragile moment delicately, as though startling her daughter would cause Nicole to shatter like glass. </p><p>Nicole was overwhelmed by the surge of complex and mixed emotions: fear and confusion regarding her feelings for Waverly; performance anxiety about her tryout; and unease about her mom’s reaction to whatever she said next. Obviously, she wanted to shout “YES!” and go on and on about this girl she had been dreaming of since before they moved to Purgatory. But, she was also terrified to finally admit something she herself had only begun to understand. She took her time, weighing her options, and slowly nodded her head without looking up at her mom, unable to form words. </p><p>“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Haught whispered tenderly. “How long have you known?” Nicole was silent, so her mom continued, “You know you can tell me anything?” She leaned in and placed her hand on Nicole’s shoulder.</p><p>After a moment, Nicole sighed and breathed out, “I don’t know, a few weeks. It’s nothing, Mom. I don’t even know if she likes me. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Nicole shrugged as she tried to avoid eye contact.</p><p>“It’s okay to not know. It’s alright to be figuring out who you are in this big world. And I love you no matter who you love,” her mom said with a sniffle and a reassuring smile. </p><p>“Thanks, Mom.” Nicole looked at her mom for the first time since she got in the car. “Can we not tell Dad? I am not ready for that yet,” Nicole spoke slowly, trying to process her mother’s unwavering support. </p><p>“Well, if I know your father, this will not be an easy thing to get through to him. So, if you’re not ready, we will tell him together when you are,” she said as Nicole leaned in to give her mom a tight hug. </p><p>As the pair headed inside, Nicole went straight to her room. She had a lot to think about. </p><p>——————————————————-</p><p>—Meanwhile—</p><p>Champ picked Waverly up from school, having recovered from his Shorty’s Burger  Challenge food hangover. He screeched into the parking lot in his pickup, blaring This Is How We Roll, and hanging out the window as Waverly exited the gym. When he saw her still in short shorts and a tank top from cheer practice he laid on the horn and and howled like a dog, throwing his head back in an exaggerated motion. Waverly rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger side. Champ put the truck in park and immediately reached over and pulled her in for an obligatory kiss, which she returned chastely. She immediately pulled away despite his attempts to continue and reached toward the radio to turn down the volume. Champ scowled at her and complained, “Babe! That’s my jam!” Waverly smiled to appease him and said sweetly, “I just want to hear about your day, and I can’t do that with the speakers turned all the way up.” Champ huffed and then launched into a boastful recitation of all his Call of Duty stats and accomplishments from the day. Waverly zoned out, and thought back to her morning conversation with Nicole—who had asked so many questions Waverly had spent the whole time talking about herself. She glanced over to where Champ was still animatedly discussing himself and sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time he had shown an interest in anything other than her appearance or her body. Suddenly, she was pulled out of her thoughts by Champ looking expectantly at her, and asked, “What?”</p><p>“I said I bet you missed me walking you to class this morning, huh babe?” He accompanied the question by reaching behind her shoulders and pulling Waverly over next to him while waggling his eyebrows suggestively. </p><p>In the moment, Waverly didn’t know what came over her, but she firmly grabbed his hand and removed it from her shoulder while a torrent of angry words poured out, much to her own surprise. “You know what, Champ?” She spat, “I didn’t miss you. Not even a little bit. I actually spent the morning with a new friend who cared about me and what I had to say! Not just what I look like! She actually asked questions about ME, Champ! When’s the last time you did anything but talk about yourself? Huh?!?” Champ pulled up in front of Waverly’s house moments after her rant ended. She leapt from his truck, and marched rigidly inside before he could utter a single excuse. </p><p>Upstairs, Waverly paced back and forth in her room. She had never yelled at anyone except Wynonna. She had certainly never yelled at Champ, but she didn’t regret it. Everything she said was true—and Champ was such an immature, egocentric, selfish, asshole. Why would she date a guy with those adjectives?? Also, why did she keep thinking about Nicole’s soft brown eyes, dimpled smile, and perfect beauty mark? She flopped down on her bed and tried to recite Latin phrases, but even her love of the romantic language made her think of the red haired beauty who always seemed to catch her eye in the hall. And without prompt, the conclusion slammed into her brain and she spoke aloud, “I have to break up with Champ.” </p><p>——————————————————-<br/>—The Next Day—</p><p>Waverly arrived at school, resolute in her decision to end things with Champ. She went to her locker to wait for him and once again was distracted by vibrant red hair and kind eyes looking across the hall at her. And suddenly Champ was the furthest thing from her mind. She smiled at Nicole, who walked toward her and greeted her with a warm, “Good morning.”  Waverly noticed her auburn hair was in a pretty braid today. Waverly had just opened her mouth to respond when she felt large hands slide around her abdomen from behind and a stubbly cheek press against her face. Nicole’s smile faded and she stopped mid stride, unsure what to do. Waverly recognized Champ’s cheap, over applied cologne and rolled her eyes. He slid around in front of her and obscured her view of Nicole. Suddenly a Hershey bar materialized in his hand, which he proudly held out to the brunette. She looked at him quizzically and he smiled brightly and chirped, “It’s chocolate. Because of your...you know, your lady time. You were so cranky yesterday and I just thought-“</p><p>Waverly cut him off by slapping the Hershey bar out of his hand. In her peripheral vision she noticed red hair fading from view down the hallway, which only fueled her rage. “Champ! Are you serious right now!? Do you seriously think the only reason I could be angry with you is because of my period?” She was shouting, and Champ’s face was turning a darker shade of red with each passing word. Waverly took a breath and lowered her voice to a controlled level, “Champ, you’re an egotistical moron. You literally only think about yourself. I can’t do this anymore. We are done. Finished.” </p><p>Champ’s embarrassment slowly transitioned to anger as he took in Waverly’s words. In an unprecedented display of rage, he punched the locker right next to her head, and stalked toward the front doors. He shouted over his shoulder, “You’re gonna be sorry, Earp!” And then he was gone. Waverly looked over at the dented locker, and then back toward where Champ had exited the building. She heard his truck engine rev and the squeal of tires as he peeled out of the parking lot. </p><p>Waverly looked around at the other students staring at her. Mortified, she quickly turned to her locker to grab her books so she could run to class when she heard a clap. Then another. She glanced over her shoulder to see Chrissy standing in the middle of the hallway giving her a slow clap. And then Nicole joined her and the students around them all started to laugh. Waverly broke into a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. Chrissy walked over and hugged her and said, “It’s seriously about time, Waves.” Waverly looked over Chrissy’s shoulder and locked eyes with a smiling Nicole, who looked suspiciously joyful. </p><p>Champ did not show up for any other classes. Waverly felt relieved. She went to cheer practice with an extra pep in her step. </p><p>Nicole spent the rest of her school day buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. In large part due to her basketball tryout, but Waverly’s showdown and subsequent break up with Champ had certainly fueled her exhilaration. </p><p>Finally, after the longest day Nicole could remember, it was time for her tryout. She had worn her favorite Raptors shirt all day for luck, and was happy to finally lace up her basketball shoes and hit the court. Coach tossed her a practice jersey which she pulled on before easing into warm up drills and finding her cadence. It felt like the first time she had been able to focus on anything besides Waverly in weeks. She smoothly made layups, jump shots, hit her passes in stride, and felt her confidence come back with each drill. She was also happy to see Chrissy back on the court, as her ankle was finally healed. </p><p>After about 30 minutes of warm ups, Coach Scrofano broke them up into scrimmage teams. Nicole sat out the first game and carefully watched the other players, sizing up her teammates for their strengths and weaknesses. When she finally got her opportunity to play, she knew she needed to make an impression. Her first trip down the court on defense she knew the point guard would pass left and carefully timed it so she surged forward and intercepted the pass, stepping deftly in front of the intended recipient. She took the ball in stride, never slowing as she broke away toward her own net for an uncontested layup, which she easily made. Coach immediately became vocal and yelled at the point guard for telegraphing her passes, then looked at Nicole and gave her a nod. In the game to 10, Nicole scored the first 6 points, blocked two shots, forced another steal, and would have had two assists if the other girls had made their shots. She felt good about her efforts, so far. </p><p>She was bringing the ball up court after an inbounds play, her team up 8-6, when she saw Champ stumble into the gym and approach the cheerleaders. She immediately noticed his balance was off and his fists were balled aggressively. She fired off a sharp pass to Chrissy and evenly divided her attention between the game and Champ’s antics. Unbeknownst to the red head, Coach Scrofano was also tracking Champ and had started moving toward that end of the gym. </p><p>As the ball moved around the parameter of the offense, Nicole swung across the baseline and feigned getting open, when really she was just trying to position herself closer to the cheerleaders in case something went awry. Her intuition and instincts were spot on, for mere seconds later Champ’s slurred words echoed around the gym as he bellowed, “Waverly! How dare you break up with me! We didn’t even have sex yet!” Nicole slid past a teammate and plucked the basketball from her hands, readying herself for what she knew was coming. She cocked her arm, taught like a spring, and as Champ raised his fist and yelled, “You’re nothing but a BIT-“ the basketball Nicole launched at his head connected squarely with his nose, knocking his head back as a fount of blood instantaneously erupted from his nostrils. Simultaneously, several things happened—Champ stumbled backward, holding his face; Waverly’s head swiveled rapidly between Champ and Nicole in shock; and Coach Scrofano jumped between Waverly and Champ as she tried to assess the situation and decide what to do. Nicole was flexed, bowed, and ready to take immediate action if he even looked in Waverly’s direction again. Scrofano saw Nicole’s posture and decided to remove the most inflammatory component of the equation—she gently gripped Champ’s arm and guided him out of the gym. He went without protest, still holding his nose with blood streaming down his face.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nicole receives her punishment, and Chrissy gets a clue.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <br/>Coach Scrofano walked a sniveling Champ to the principal’s office, noting the stench of beer coming off him. She firmly pushed him down into a chair in the empty secretary’s office and then strode into Mrs. Haught’s office without knocking. Mrs. Haught looked up from her paperwork to see her normally unflappable basketball coach in obvious distress. “What’s wrong, Coach?” She immediately asked. <br/> <br/>“We have a…a situation,” Scrofano stammered in response, then gestured for Mrs. Haught to follow her and stepped back into the outer office. Mrs. Haught rushed after the Coach and found her standing, arms crossed, in front of a student whose nose was still actively dripping blood down his face and onto his shirt. Scrofano leaned into Mrs. Haught’s ear and whispered, “Get close enough to smell him when you ask what happened.” <br/> <br/>Mrs. Haught knelt directly in front of the student who she recognized as a football player, and handed him a wad of tissues. He took them and gingerly dabbed at his face. She inhaled and wondered if the young man had bathed in beer rather than ingested it. This was definitely not a scenario she had foreseen when she took this administrator position.  <br/> <br/>Scrofano cleared her throat and said, “This is Champ Hardy.” The Principal looked questioningly back at the Coach for an explanation, but her face remained stoic.  <br/> <br/>Mrs. Haught asked, “Champ, can you tell me what happened?”  <br/> <br/>Champ looked at the Principal for the first time, his eyes noticeably glazed, leaned into her space and slurred, “Your crazy ginger bitch daughter broke my nose!”  His breath reeked of beer and she recoiled from both the cruel words and the smell. <br/> <br/>Before she could respond further, Champ blanched white and gagged. Scrofano miraculously shoved a trashcan in front of his face just before he violently vomited up an impressive quantity of putrid liquid. Mrs. Haught picked up the desk phone and called the nurse. When Champ was in the health professional’s care, she tapped Scrofano’s arm and pulled her back into her office. <br/> <br/>“What on earth is happening?” She demanded when they were alone in her office.  <br/> <br/>“Nicole hit him in the face with a basketball.” She answered bluntly. And as an afterthought muttered, “Honestly it was a hell of a throw.”  <br/> <br/>“Please bring Nicole to my office, immediately,” the principal ordered grimly. Scrofano, having regained her characteristic composure, gave her a knowing glance and exited without comment. Mrs. Haught took a beat to regain her own composure. Nicole had never been in a fight, had never reacted aggressively before, but as the principal she would have to make an example of her own daughter or risk losing control of her staff and student body—she simply could not be seen to tolerate violence. <br/> <br/>------------------------- <br/>--Back in the Gym— <br/> <br/>As soon as Coach Scrofano had Champ out of sight, Nicole went to Waverly. Waverly looked shocked, almost trance-like. Nicole put her hands on Waverly’s elbows with a light touch and softly asked, “Are you OK?” Chrissy joined Nicole at Waverly’s side and put her arm around Waverly’s shoulders. Moments passed as Chrissy and Nicole stood with the brunette, who seemed small and withdrawn. Nicole asked again, “Are you OK?” Waverly’s movements were slow, like she was underwater, as she placed one hand on Chrissy’s, which was draped on her shoulder, and her other hand on Nicole’s elbow, acknowledging them both. Eventually, she opened her eyes, looked straight into Nicole’s, and the cascading light Nicole always felt in her presence returned. Waverly smiled, her eyes squinting into delighted half moons as she whispered, “I’m OK…You stood up for me.”  <br/> <br/>Nicole couldn’t help but return the brunette’s smile, completely lost in the moment, oblivious to the eyes of the basketball team and the cheerleading squad as she replied, “I’d throw a basketball at anyone for you!” There was genuine affection in her voice and her eyes, and she looked down at her feet, surprised and a little embarrassed at her own words. She glanced back to the brunette in time to see her cheeks blush red. Unable to contain herself, Nicole blurted, “Actually, I’d do a lot of things to…”  <br/> <br/>“Nicole Haught!” Coach Scrofano yelled, interrupting the redhead. Nicole, startled, stepped away from Waverly and looked up toward the Coach. “Principal’s office, now!” <br/> <br/>The gym was eerily silent as Nicole walked the length of the court toward her coach, her footsteps the only sound in the cavernous space. Suddenly her mind raced back to a conversation she had with Charlie’s mom over a year prior. Nicole had been at Charlie’s house one night when her mom came home from a shift with obvious bruises on her face and her police uniform torn and disheveled. A few days later, Nicole had asked the officer if they could talk about what happened—and Charlie’s mom, knowing Nicole was interested in law enforcement--had spoken candidly with the teen about the use of force incident in which she had been involved. She had carefully emphasized her responsibilities as an officer of the law, her efforts at de-escalation, and the vital importance of articulation of the facts after the incident. She had explained to Nicole how her incident report detailed the suspect’s mannerisms prior to the physical altercation—how his hands were balled into fists, his teeth were bared--his non-verbal aggressions in addition to documentation of his verbalizations. Nicole swiftly thought back to Champ’s entrance into the gym. He had been unsteady on his feet, as if intoxicated; his voice was loud and belligerent; his fists had been clenched; he had walked aggressively toward Waverly; he had called her a “bitch”; and the final straw, which she knew was her only justification for throwing the basketball, was how he had raised his hand toward Waverly. Nicole had acted out of concern for Waverly’s safety. She set her jaw, determined to plead her case clearly and concisely, just like Charlie’s mom had taught her.  <br/> <br/>As Nicole turned the corner toward the principal’s office, on the heels of her coach, she saw the school nurse escorting Champ out through the front doors of the school. He was mumbling incoherently and holding an ice pack to his face. <br/> <br/>When they arrived at the office, Coach Scrofano stopped outside the door and gestured for Nicole to enter first, offering a look of pity to the redhead. As soon as Nicole stepped over the threshold her mother’s voice rang out, “Nicole Rayleigh Haught! What has gotten into you? Of all the things I thought could happen here, you being involved with a violent incident never crossed my mind! You probably broke that young man’s nose!”  <br/> <br/>Nicole allowed her mom to finish her flustered rant without interruption. She knew her action was justified and reiterated simply and clearly exactly what she had rehearsed in her mind. She described what she observed in detail, where and when she repositioned during the scenario, why she feared for Waverly’s safety, and how Champ’s aggressive action toward Waverly had caused her to act decisively. Nicole did not argue, nor did she waver. She stood tall, hands coolly at her side, and spoke in a calm, even tone. Mrs. Haught looked incredulous at the end of her daughter’s recitation. <br/> <br/>A soft knock on the door distracted Mrs. Haught, and she looked away for the first time since Nicole’s arrival in the office. The door opened and Waverly walked in, trepidation in every step. Coach Scrofano followed her inside, but stopped just inside the door. Her head was down, but the brunette walked straight to the principal’s desk where Mrs. Haught was seated and said, voice quavering, “Mrs. Haught, my name is Waverly Earp. Nicole did nothing wrong. Well, the basketball to Champ’s face was not anticipated, but she did it for me. I broke up with Champ, he must have gotten into his father’s beer, and came into the gym angry. I think he would have hit me if Nicole hadn’t done what she did.”  <br/> <br/>Mrs. Haught looked from Waverly to Coach Scrofano and asked, “Coach, is this true?” Scrofano nodded and confirmed she had been moving toward Waverly and Champ to intervene herself, but wasn’t fast enough to get there before Champ raised a fist toward the girl. Scrofano reiterated Champ had smelled strongly of beer and had been unsteady on his feet when she escorted him out of the gym.  <br/> <br/>Nicole glanced over to Waverly and their eyes met and held as they waited for Mrs. Haught to pronounce some sort of verdict. Nicole’s heart swelled at Waverly’s effort to defend the redhead’s action, because the brunette was obviously so scared to confront an authority figure.  <br/> <br/>As Mrs. Haught deliberated from behind her desk, weighing all the information she had just received, she glanced up in time to see her daughter looking at Waverly. It was a look of adoration, protectiveness, and pride. And Waverly’s face shone with gratitude in return. Mrs. Haught tucked the trinket of information away for later and resumed her focus on the current situation. After another moment, she said with unmistakable authority, “Miss Earp, thank you for coming in. I will speak to Coach Scrofano and Nicole alone now. You may go.” With a final glance to Nicole, Waverly was gone.  <br/> <br/>The atmosphere at the Haught home was tense that night as Mrs. Haught mentally labored over the fair and correct punishments for her daughter and Champ. Nicole knew her mom needed time and space to determine her professional responsibility in the situation, as well as to process it emotionally as a mother. So Nicole went upstairs to her room like normal, and relived the whole basketball tryout and the Champ situation. She absentmindedly wondered if she had showcased her basketball skills enough to make the team before Champ derailed everything. She had a sneaking suspicion Coach Scrofano did not care one bit about her hitting Champ in the face—simply based on how Scrofano struggled to keep a smirk off her face every time his nose was referenced in her mom’s office. And she thought about Waverly—she had saved Waverly.  And she would do it again and again for as long as she had breath in her lungs. It felt like instinct. It was reactionary and intuitive and Nicole would endure any punishment on the brunette’s behalf. </p><p>The next morning in the car, Mrs. Haught finally found the right words to say to her daughter, and knew their morning commute was her best opportunity to calmly and openly talk to her about it before they got to school. </p><p>“As you’re Mom, I’m intensely proud of you for standing up for your friend. You noticed a potentially dangerous situation and made a choice to act rather than sit passively by. You probably saved Waverly from being hurt. However, as a Principal, I have to chastise you for choosing violence—Nicole, there were other ways to react without breaking his nose. So, for your punishment, you will serve 20 hours of community service around the school. One hour after school every day for a month.” Nicole thought her mom sounded profoundly sad as she pronounced the punishment. “Again, I am very proud that you saw danger and had the courage to act. It showed bravery and character. Just so you’re aware, Champ will also be receiving punishment.”</p><p>As they pulled up to the school, Mrs. Haught turned to Nicole and told her to follow her into the office. Since they were early, Nicole was allowed to make a quick stop at her locker. She was dreading this meeting with her mom, because she knew what was coming. She took a deep breath, and reached up to shut her locker, and suddenly a familiar face popped up beside her.</p><p>“Hey. You alright this morning?” Waverly asked. Unbeknownst to Nicole, Waverly has arrived at school early to wait for the redhead. They had never exchanged phone numbers so Waverly had no way of checking in on her new friend after the incident at school and she had been worried sick about Nicole being in trouble.   She has been anxiously waiting around a corner to see the redhead after the principal passed by. </p><p>“I am totally alright. I am actually about to go into my mom’s office to hear the official verdict on my punishment,” Nicole replied, clearly not excited. But then, seeing the concern and regret on Waverly’s face, added, “Waves, no regrets. I would do the same thing all over again. Don’t worry about me.” And Nicole flashed her dimples and gave The brunette a reassuring wink before stepping across the hall. “Catch you on the flip side,” she quipped as she stepped into the office. </p><p>“Find me at lunch!” Waverly called after her, flashing a smile of her own. </p><p>Nicole shut the door behind her and took a moment to return to the present. She couldn’t walk into her mom’s office with a goofy smile on her face, even though that’s exactly the effect Waverly had on her. Having steeled her features, Nicole knocked on the door and entered upon hearing her mom’s voice sharply reply, “Come in!” </p><p>Champ was already seated in front of Mrs. Haught’s desk, hands in his lap, head bowed, and a piece of tape across his bruised and swollen nose. </p><p>Nicole listened to a concise speech by Principal Haught on the zero tolerance policy for violence, followed by a decree that she apologize to Champ, which Nicole did without hesitation. Mrs. Haught described the community service hours for which Nicole was responsible and provided her with a time sheet on which teacher signatures were required for verification of hours worked. Next, Mrs. Haught turned to Champ and explained that since he arrived at the school in a state of obvious inebriation, which he did not deny, he was suspended for two weeks. Champ did nothing but stare at his feet. Mrs. Haught then dismissed them both. Champ immediately left school grounds, and Nicole walked to class, already excited about having lunch with Waverly. </p><p>Nicole passed Chrissy in the hallway, but was so consumed by her own thoughts she didn’t notice the blonde watching her. Chrissy thought back to yesterday’s exchange between Waverly and Nicole, after Champ had taken the basketball to the face. Had the two been...flirting?? Chrissy couldn’t help but feel there had been a nearly tangible mutual attraction between them and she was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. <br/> <br/>  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rabid_Dolphin can be found on twitter @dolphin_rabid55 and Anxious_Life as @jescyka88. Give us a shout anytime 👍🏻</p></blockquote></div></div>
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